He Loves Her
by smacky30
Summary: Post-ep for 5x03. Emily and Dave are both running from something. But are they running to each other?


**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: Many thanks to mingsmommy and losingntrnslatn for their help. They worked really hard and then I did my own thing.**

Slowly, ever so slowly he slides into her. And she is suddenly aware of the symbolism of the act in a way she never has been before. She is open, vulnerable. And he…is not.

Emily isn't sure why she agreed to come home with Rossi tonight. Not after everything she saw and heard in Commack. But she didn't want to argue with him, didn't want to start something she isn't prepared to finish, so she simply nodded yes when he raised an eyebrow in question.

He's moving faster, his hips rising and falling between her thighs to the rhythm of the words running through her mind. _He. Loves. Her. He. Loves. Her. He loves her. He loves her. Helovesher._

Shuddering and moaning, he presses his face into the curve of her shoulder as he comes. He sags against her, his body pinning her against the mattress. He's heavy, his weight oppressive in a way it has never been before.

With a sigh, he rolls away, his hand sliding with practiced ease between her thighs. "Sorry about that. I missed you more than I realized." His words are whispered into the darkness between them. "Let me make it up to you."

"No. Really." She gazes up at him, this man she loves more than anyone or anything. "I'm tired." With that, she pushes his hand away and starts to slide out of the bed.

"Emily," he tugs her back and kisses her. His hand slips between her thighs again, and he teases her lips open with his tongue.

Shoving at his hand, she stumbles out of bed. "Dammit, Rossi. Can't you just let it go?"

"But…" He looks so confused, so pathetic that she almost gives in. After all it's an orgasm not a marriage proposal.

But giving in isn't really an option. She's raw and hurting and he's so fucking clueless that she wonders how he manages to tie his own shoes. "Look, it's not like people know we're sleeping together so I can't go running off and tell anybody that you left me hanging. Your reputation is safe with me."

She leaves him there, staring at her like she's gone mad, and goes into the bathroom, closing the door sharply behind her. She comes out again after collecting herself, and when she opens the door he's on his side, facing away from her. Silently, she lifts the covers and slips in beside him.

"I'm sorry." He sounds angry, not apologetic, and she heaves a sigh.

"Dave, I… Just go to sleep. Things will be better in the morning."

"You swear?" He reaches back, finding her hand and tugging until she is spooned behind him. "Because right now that doesn't seem like a bet I'd be willing to take."

She presses a kiss between his shoulder blades. "Go to sleep."

Before long his breathing evens out and the hand holding hers relaxes and slips away. Her hand is over his heart, the steady beat soothing her even as it makes her ache with loneliness. This is why she came. Not for the sex. For this. This time in the darkest hours when he is most vulnerable, most open. This time he chooses to share with her. Now she wonders what he dreams of when he closes his eyes. And then she wonders if she really wants to know. Quietly, stealthily, she slips from the bed and begins to dress.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

The pounding stops only long enough for him to call her name. Then it starts again. With a growl of irritation, Emily opens the door. "Would you stop? You're going to wake up the whole building."

"What is this?" Rossi holds up a crumpled piece of yellow legal paper. "Sorry I had to go?" His hair is disheveled, his shirt untucked and he looks worse than she can ever remember seeing him look, and she wants to hold him. Actually, the desire to wrap her arms around him and apologize for causing him worry is so strong she aches with it.

"I didn't want you to panic, so I left a note." With that, she turns and leaves him standing outside her door.

He follows her and when he speaks, his voice is calm and that worries her more than if he were yelling. "Talk to me, Emily. What's going on?"

"Coffee?" She asks even as she fills the carafe with water. Coffee is the last thing she wants right now, but it's keeping her hands busy.

Dragging a hand through his hair, Rossi sucks in a deep breath. "Come on, Emily. You can't just leave _this_," he waves the hand holding the paper, "and run home in the middle of the night."

"I'm not the one who's running." Flipping the switch on the coffee maker, she brushes past him to stand in front of the living room windows. She stares out at the view without really seeing it. Instead, she listens to him breathing and knows he's trying to control his temper.

Finally, with much more calm than she expects, he asks, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Emily sucks in a shuddering breath, refusing to let him see her cry. "She wasn't just the love of Judge Schuller's life, was she?"

"Who?" His forehead furrows in confusion. "Emma? What does she have to do with you pulling some middle of the night disappearing act?"

"Don't play dumb, Dave. I deserve better." Once again she moves around him. In the kitchen, she pulls down two mugs and gets out a spoon with hands that shake.

His hand wraps around her arm and he tugs her back to face him. "Emily, you've gotta help me here. I can't fight with you if I don't know what I'm fighting about."

She can feel the tears filling her eyes and she shrugs off his hand. "Please don't."

The light comes on then, she can see it in his eyes. "Oh no. You can't possibly…" He's shaking his head and trying to wrap his arms around her but she pushes him away.

"I was there, Dave. I saw you. I _heard_ you."

"I lied!" He drags a hand over his beard. "I lied about sleeping with her. I lied."

"I know." With a sad smile, she shrugs. "I knew it when you were saying it."

"Then what is this about?"

" Dave, it would be better if you _had_ slept with her. Don't you get it?" Emily swipes at the tears on her cheeks. "Nobody can live up to what might have been."

Dave simply stares at her for a moment. "Shit." He runs a shaking hand over his beard. "It's not a competition."

"Isn't it?" This time she doesn't even try to keep the weariness out of her voice. "You let her get away and you can't forgive yourself for that. And you can't stop comparing other women to her."

"Don't play around in my head, Prentiss," he growls. "You don't know what you're talking about."

She nods. "You're right. I couldn't possibly understand what it's like to give up the one person in the world who matters most. I couldn't possibly understand what it feels like to make a decision that will change the course of your life forever."

He pins her with his best interrogator glare. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

Emily simply stares back at him unfazed. "It doesn't really matter." She shrugs. "What matters is that I can't compete with a dead woman. So, I think it's best if…"

"Wait." His fingers cover her lips. "Let me ask you a question." Dave slips his hand over her cheek, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone, his fingers tangling in her hair. "If you could go back and change things, knowing that you would never go to work for the BAU, never do the things you've done, never…meet me, would you do it?" He steps closer, his heat and scent wrapping around her. "Because I can honestly say I wouldn't change a thing."

It isn't often that Emily Prentiss is confused about anything. She's smart. Very smart. But right now, standing in her cramped kitchen she simply stares at him, utterly bewildered. "What are you saying?"

His gaze is a combination of affection and amusement. "I loved Emma. But I know now that what I did, the decisions I made, led me here. To you. And I wouldn't have missed this for the world. I love you, Emily. Right here, right now, I love _you_."

His lips are warm and soft and just a little tentative. Emily can't help but think it may be the first tentative move he's ever made in his life. But he's solid against her and she lets her mind absorb the fact that _he loves_ _her_.

It's there then, in the center of her chest, like a flower opening in the warm spring sun. Hope. Hope that they can overcome their pasts. Hope that they can build a future because for the first time in her life she wants a future with someone. Love and desire curl inside her, hot and desperate. "Dave," she whispers against his lips.

"Hmmmmmmmm?" His soft hum tickles her and she smiles as his mouth slides over her jaw.

"Let's go upstairs." She runs her fingers through his hair and chuckles at his quiet moan. "_We've_ got some making up to do."


End file.
